A Life Unlived
by ProfessorJellybean
Summary: James and Lily are killed during an attack on Potter Manor when Dahlia Potter is only a few months old. Dorea Potter takes custody of little Dahlia and goes to France where Dahlia is raised to be the perfect Pureblood Heiress . How will Wizarding Britain react when Dahlia Potter, heiress to the Potter & Black fortune, returns to Britain just in time for the Triwizard Tournament?
1. Prologue

James and Lily are killed along with Charlus Potter during an attack on Potter Manor when Dahlia is only a few months old. Dorea Potter takes custody of little Dahlia Potter and goes into hiding at one of the many Black manors in France. There she is raised to be the perfect Pureblood Heiress despite her own blood status. How will Wizarding Britain react when Dahlia Potter-Black, heiress to the Potter and Black fortune, returns to Britain just in time for the Triwizard Tournament? More importantly, how will Dahlia react when she realizes there is more to life than being the perfect heiress?

Tags: Pureblood culture, sexism, misogyny, old fashioned beliefs, female!Harry, BWL!Neville, unrequited love, possible cross-generation romance later.

Pairings: undecided for now.

Prologue

When Sybil Trelawney prophesized the end of the Dark Lord Voldemort at the hands of a boy born as the seventh month dies on that cold, wet February afternoon, there were only two pregnant women who fit the parameters: Alice Longbottom and Lily Potter. For whatever reason, however, the Dark Lord Voldemort had chosen, at least after initially hearing about the prophecy, to concentrate on getting rid of the Potters. There was speculation this was because the Potter child was to be a half-blood the same as Lord Voldemort.

Until the birth of the Potter child, that is.

The Potters had never bothered to inquire after the sex of their child-to-be. James Potter was the only son of a long line of only sons stretching back to the mid-17th century. In fact, it had been even longer than that, if the records could be believed, that a daughter was born into the Potter family. When the expected Potter heir, named almost from conception Harry James—Harry for his mother's father and James for his own father—turned out to be the Potter heiress instead, this threw a stitch into Lord Voldemort's plans. You see, Lord Voldemort did not think that a half-blooded girl could pose the same danger to him as the expected boy. Moreover, the prophecy itself seemed to prove his sentiments as it clearly referred to the prophecy child as a "he."

While the Potters were relieved that Lord Voldemort's attentions had moved elsewhere, they did not become complacent. Raising a child in the midst of war was a dangerous business after all, and it was for that very reason that James Potter moved his wife and infant daughter, Dahlia Callisto—named Dahlia after her mother's family's tradition of flower names and Callisto in respect to her grandmother's family's tradition of constellation names—into Potter Manor with his parents, Charlus and Dorea Potter.

As members of Albus Dumbledore's vigilante ground, The Order of the Phoenix, James and Lily Potter were actively acting against Lord Voldemort, so it should come as no surprise that they, once more, found themselves as a target of the Dark Lord's ire. It should also come as no surprise that James and Lily Potter died at the end of the Dark Lord's wand.

It happened on December 15th of 1980, nearly six months after the birth of their daughter. James and Lily Potter, as well as James' father, Charlus Potter, had spent the day decorating Potter manor for the upcoming Yule holiday while Dorea Potter nee Black had taken the young Dahlia with her to visit Dorea's aging mother, Violette Bulstrode-Black. When Dorea returned home with her granddaughter, she found the Dark Mark hovering over the decimated remains of Potter Manor and all three inhabitants dead.

Though custody of the six-month old Potter (and now Black) heiress was awarded to her godfather, Sirius Black, he gave guardianship to Dorea Potter, who took the infant and fled to the safety of France to raise her. There Dahlia Potter-Black remained even after the Dark Lord Voldemort was defeated ten months later, on October 31, 1981 by the young Boy-Who-Lived, Neville Longbottom.

And so the years passed until the beginning of our tale, the summer of 1994.

Dahlia Callisto Potter-Black was everything a Pureblood witch of fourteen ought to be despite not being a pureblood herself: composed, graceful, beautiful, talented, and most important of all, accomplished. She spoke a number of languages fluently, played both the violin and the lyre, could dance if the need for it arose, was a dab hand at magic, and could speak intelligently about a variety of subjects. In other words, Dahlia Callisto Potter-Black had been raised to be the perfect heiress of not one but two Noble and Most Ancient families.

Of course, it went without mentioning that Dahlia was not perfect by any stretch of the imagination. She had a fiery temper, which, coupled with her inability to hold her tongue, often got her into trouble with her grand-mère. She also had a tendency towards mischief if left to her own devices. Her grand-mère had said on more than one occasion that idle hands were the devil's playthings, so she strove to ensure that Dahlia's hands were very rarely idle which was one of the reasons she had so many accomplishments. Not that Dahlia did not enjoy her lessons, however, because with the exception of her dreaded dancing lessons, she did. Only sometimes she wished that she had more free time to walk through the immense gardens surrounding her home or to read a book for fun.

Dahlia was also prone to mischief if under the influence of her godfather, Sirius Black, who she loved to distraction though she did not get to see him nearly as often as she would like. Dahlia's desire to spend more time with Sirius was often a subject of discord between her and her grand-mère as well as between her grand-mère and Sirius. You see, Dorea Potter nee Black was rather old fashioned and set in her ways, and she was of the opinion that it was inappropriate for Dahlia to spend any time alone with a man. This had only increased, as Dahlia grew older. For the most part, Dahlia didn't have a problem with it. It was a sentiment that was quite familiar to Dahlia and her circle of friends as many of their families, the Delacour family especially, were also rather strict in that regard.

She never really understood why her grand-mère did not relax the standards when it came to Sirius as he was the closest thing to a father figure Dahlia had ever had and as such should really be considered a member of her immediate family. She knew that Sirius felt the same way. In fact, it had been only a week ago that she had overheard her grand-mère and Sirius have an argument that would lead to her entire world being overturned.

It was only a week into her holidays from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic where she had just completed her third year. She'd spent the morning working on completing her homework in preparation for Sirius' yearly visit, but when she heard the raised voices coming from the nearby parlor, she couldn't help but to go and investigate. She had always been a rather curious child.

"—she is my goddaughter! You have no right to keep her from me!"

"I have every right to keep her from you. You know very well how inappropriate it would be for a single man such as yourself to raise a young girl!"

She had heard Sirius make a noise of disgust then but her grandmamma had pressed on.

"Not to mention the company you keep! I know exactly what sort of hijinks single men get up to when they gather together, and Aurors are known for their bawdry ways. You would subject your goddaughter, who you profess to love, to their influence, knowing what could happen to her?"

"I would never—no one would ever! Lia would be perfectly safe!"

"My decision stands, Sirius. I will continue to allow you to have chaperoned visits with Dahlia as I have always done but no more than that."

"Every bloody minute of her life is chaperoned!" Sirius had spat then. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing to her. Raising her to be the perfect little Pureblood broodmare, aren't you? It's disgusting! James and Lily would be ashamed of how you're raising her!—"

There was a distinct sound of flesh on flesh then, and when she next heard her grand-mère speak, she sounded angrier than she ever had before.

"How _dare _you say such a thing? Everything I have done, I have done to ensure Dahlia has a successful future. I have done nothing but give her every opportunity to excel—the best tutors, lessons, and trips around the world for her studies! I have spared no expense when it comes to her education!"

"Yeah? Is that right? And what sort of future have you envisioned for her, huh? Is she to be the next Lady Malfoy? I think Narcissa's sprog is about her age. Or maybe you'll just marry her to some old man? I think Yaxley's still single, or how about the youngest Lestrange? Our latest Intel puts him in Germany, so it might be a bit of a commute, but I'm sure you could find him if you wanted.

But I bet they wouldn't take her, would they, since she's just a filthy half-blood to them? Maybe, if she's lucky, one of them will take her as a mistress instead! Some future!"

"Get—out—_now_. I want you out of here, and don't you dare come back until you can keep a civil tongue when speaking to me!"

"Oh, I'm leaving, but you'll hear from my attorney. I've let you keep Lia because I thought you'd be the best one for the job, but James and Lily named _me _her guardian in their will. I've never pressed it before, but I think it's high time I took custody of her. She should be in England with me, attending Hogwarts like her parents and every other Potter since its founding."

Dahlia had not even known she was moving until she found herself in the doorway of the parlor. Her grandmamma was on one side of the room, her face pale and trembling in fury, and Sirius on the other, his handsome face twisted into an ugly smirk, an angry handprint on his cheek.

"Did you mean that, Uncle Sirius?" Dahlia said, her accented voice thick with tears. "Are you really going to take me away?"

Sirius' eyes widened when he saw her there in front of them. "Lia, you know I love you and only want what's best for you—"

"No! I won't go. I can't leave grand-mère, and I don't _want _to go to Hogwarts. I love Beauxbatons and Madame Maxine."

And she truly didn't want to leave. Yes, she loved Sirius and wanted to spend more time with him, but this was the only home she knew. Ever since her parents died when she was a scant six months old, she had lived here with her grand-mère in France. Things weren't perfect—sometimes she _did_ get tired of her lessons and all of the rules she had to follow, and maybe she and her grand-mère hadn't always gotten along, but that didn't mean she wanted to leave.

Her grand-mère gave Sirius a superior look. "You see? Dahlia is happy here with me. She is settled. Her entire life is here. If you really cared about her, you would see how selfish you are being in pushing the matter."

Sirius took a deep breath and a look of resolve settled onto his face. "For the first time in my life, Dorea, I am not being selfish. If you would just agree to the change in custody, we could save ourselves—and Lia—a lot of problems."

The tears that had been threatening to fall ever since she heard her godfather insinuate those vile things about her were now falling down her pale cheeks when she saw the resignation on her grand-mère's face. She rushed over to her and grabbed both of her hands. "I don't want to leave! Please, I promise I won't complain anymore about lessons, and I'll be on my best behavior."

"I'm sorry, _ma petit—_"

"I won't go—_I won't_."

Sirius took a step toward her. "Lia—"

But Dahlia would have none of it. She wretched her hands out of her grand-mère's and rushed from the room. At the doorway, she stopped just long enough to throw Sirius a look of utter betrayal and loathing.

Sirius had returned the next day with the change of custody in hand, and Dahlia had been forced to have her belongings packed by her personal house lf and leave her home and her grand-mère behind. However, that did not mean she was happy about it.

In fact, even now, seven days after the argument and six days since her removal from France and her placement in the dank and dark house, Grimmauld Place, that Sirius called home, she had not spoken a word to Sirius if she could absolutely help it. She had encased herself in her chambers and left only for meals, to visit the owlry in order to send letters to her friends and her grand-mère back in France, or for her lessons. Her grand-mère had insisted that Dahlia be allowed to continue her lessons if she desired, and though Sirius did not seem happy about it, he had allowed it. She had also been allowed to take her personal house elf, Tippy, with her.

Just then, Tippy appeared before Dahlia, startling her out of her pensive thoughts.

"Mistress Dahlia! It is being time for dinner. Master Sirius and Master Remus is waiting for you."

Sighing, Dahlia set the book she had been decidedly not reading for some time aside and stood to dress for dinner. Though Sirius had told her time and time again that it was not necessary for her to do so, she always had. In truth, Dahlia loved all the niceties of the Pureblood Wizarding Culture, the traditions and rituals. She knew that they were considered old fashioned, especially in Britain where many witches and wizards had embraced Muggle culture, but in France these traditions and rituals were commonplace.

Dinner was the same that night as it was every night since her arrival. Remus Lupin, a friend of both her deceased parents and Sirius, sat between Sirius and Dahlia and attempted to make pleasant conversation with the two of them.

"Are you looking forward to seeing the school your parents attended?" Remus asked, a kind smile on his face. "I'm sure Sirius has regaled you with a number of stories about what we got up to there."

"I am not," Dahlia answered coolly. "I would much rather continue my education at Beauxbatons, but as that option has been taken away from me, I suppose I will simply have to persevere."

Beside Remus, Sirius flushed hotly. He opened his mouth to speak but a pointed look from Remus had him closing his mouth. Instead, he continued eating. After a few minutes had passed, he spoke.

"I thought it might do you some good to spend time with some kids your own age and make friends, so I got us all tickets to the Quidditch World Cup. A chap I know from the ministry will be there with his kids. I think two of them are about your age."

Warring emotions arouse within Dahlia. On one hand, Quidditch was Dahlia's guilty pleasure. Her grand-mere did not think it was a done thing for young girls to ride on broomsticks, so she had only done so a handful of times and had never actually played Quidditch herself. Sirius, however, had taken her to several games a season ever since she was young enough to really understand the game. On the other hand, though, she was still—rightfully so, she felt—furious at Sirius for removing her from her grand-mere's custody.

When Dahlia did not immediately respond, Sirius pressed on. "The match starts in two days, but since the Ministry is staggering the arrivals, we have to arrive at the campground in the morning. I've already owled your tutors and let them know. All you have to do is be packed and ready to go in the morning."

She took one last bite of her dinner and set her fork and knife aside. "May I be excused then?"

Sirius' face seemed to crumple at Dahlia's indifferent tone. He heaved a sigh of resignation and nodded.

"It was lovely to see you again, Mister Lupin," Dahlia said before leaving the room. She stopped just passed the doorway when she heard Remus speak.

"It'll get better, Sirius, just give her time."

"It's been a week already, Moony. A week, and she's barely said two words to me. I just—do you think I did the right thing?"

There were several beats of silence before Remus replied. It was a carefully worded response. "Dumbledore is adamant that there are whispers telling of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's impending return even if the Minister refuses to listen. If the Headmaster believes that Dahlia could be in danger in the event he does return, then I believe that as well."

"But couldn't I be putting her into more danger by bringing her back to Britain?"

"Perhaps, but the Headmaster is the only one You-Know-Who has ever feared. She'll be safe enough at Hogwarts."

"I hope so. Otherwise, I've made my only goddaughter hate me for no reason."

"She doesn't hate you, Padfoot. I told you she—"

"Just needs time," Sirius finished ruefully. "Yeah, I know."

There was the clatter of silverware on china and then the sound of two chairs sliding back.

"Come on, Paddy. How about a game of chess before bed? We've an early morning, but I should have enough time to thrash you!"

Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, Dahlia hurried upstairs, her mind fixed on one question: why would You-Know-Who want to hurt _her_?


	2. Chapter One

James and Lily are killed along with Charlus Potter during an attack on Potter Manor when Dahlia is only a few months old. Dorea Potter takes custody of little Dahlia Potter and goes into hiding at one of the many Black manors in France. There she is raised to be the perfect Pureblood Heiress despite her own blood status. How will Wizarding Britain react when Dahlia Potter-Black, heiress to the Potter and Black fortune, returns to Britain just in time for the Triwizard Tournament? More importantly, how will Dahlia react when she realizes there is more to life than being the perfect heiress?

Tags: Pureblood culture, sexism, misogyny, old fashioned beliefs, female!Harry, BWL!Neville, unrequited love, possible cross-generation romance later.

Pairings: undecided for now.

Chapter One

By the time that Dahlia heard the sounds of her godfather and Remus getting ready the next morning, Dahlia was putting the finishing touches on her hair. Her long, dark hair was piled on top of her head in an intricate series of twists and braids with a number of corkscrew curls hanging loose around her face and several orange blossoms weaved through it. It was held together by a set of hairpins imbued with protective charms that her great-uncle Pollux had given her for her fourteenth birthday less than a month ago.

She had forgone robes as she knew that they would be interacting with Muggles at the campground and had instead chosen to wear a black sundress that was flattering though not particularly revealing especially when paired with a cardigan. It wouldn't do for Dahlia to be seen in inappropriate attire at such an international event after all.

She slipped on her ballet flats just as there was a knock at the door.

"Lia, time to…" Sirius trailed off when Dahlia opened the door.

"I'll be down in a moment. I just need to instruct Tippy on the handling of my trunk," she told him. It was the most she had spoken to him, and the look of surprise on his face told her that he realized that as well.

"Alright, then," he said. "Me and Moony'll be downstairs eating when you're done."

Breakfast was a silent affair as both Remus and Sirius looked rather droopy. Sirius sent several longing looks Dahlia's way when he thought she wasn't looking, but Dahlia had always been an observant girl.

It was still dark outside when the trio appeared at the Port-key site. Dahlia took several deep breaths in order to ward off the rising nausea that threated her. No matter how many times she Apparated, albeit only side-along, she always felt ill. The clambering of feet and voices that had been dim when they first arrived grew louder every minute, signaling the arrival of their traveling companions.

"Oh good, they're almost here," Sirius said. He gave Dahlia an encouraging smile. "I think you'll like the Weasleys. They have a daughter a bit younger than you. Ginny, is her name, I think."

Dahlia resisted the urge to frown. While she had grown up in France, she was quite familiar with British Pureblood society and, as such, she knew very well that the Weasleys were not likely to be suitable companions. Her assumption was cemented when the group arrived. Although she was sure that their journey to the Portkey site did them no favors, the group of redheads—and several brunettes—was a ragtag group. They were all, even the girls, wearing Muggle denim trousers and a number of differently styled shirts. Not only did their clothing look unkempt but also their hair did as well especially the brunette girl whose curls were completely out of control. All conversation stopped as soon as they set eyes on Sirius, Remus, and Dahlia.

"Oh good, you made it," the balding redheaded man said jovially if a little winded. "I hope you haven't been waiting too long. It's a bit of a hike from our home to here."

Sirius looked more than a little relieved at seeing the man. He moved forward to clasp a hand on the man's shoulder. "Just got here ourselves a few minutes ago, Arthur."

The man, Arthur, smiled widely. "Good, good."

"Kids, this is my goddaughter, Dahlia Potter-Black. Dahlia, these are…" he hesitated for a moment, looking from one side of the large group of teens to the other.

A pair of identical boys exchanged grins before turning their grins on Dahlia. "We're Gred and Forge," they said simultaneously. "But you can call us- "

Arthur gave the two a reproachful look. "Boys…"

They sighed. "He never lets us have any fun," one of the boys said. He gave Dahlia a mocking little bow. "I'm Fred and that ugly mug over there is George."

The girl with the unruly hair stepped forward with her hand out. "I'm Hermione Granger."

Dahlia merely looked at the outstretched hand but did not move to return the gesture. Did this girl have no etiquette training?

After a moment, the forenamed Hermione dropped her hand and stepped back. The redhead boy beside her scowled and muttered lowly before finally telling his name. "Ron."

A timid looking brunette boy with a lightening bolt scar on his forehead gave Dahlia an uncertain smile. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Potter-Black. I am Neville Longbottom, heir to the Longbottom family."

Dahlia raised an eyebrow in surprise. So this was the famous Boy-Who-Lived? He didn't seem like much, but he was polite enough, she supposed.

She extended her hand out for him. "Likewise, Mister Longbottom."

He hesitated before grasping her hand gently and raising it to his lips. She was pleasantly surprised when she did not feel his lips on her skin.

When this process was over, he bolted back to his place between Ron and the only other girl, a redhead who was glaring at Dahlia with narrowed eyes. The girl didn't seem to have any intention of introducing herself, but after a nudge from the other girl, she curtly stated her name, "Ginny."

A few minutes of tense silence passed before the Portkey was set to go off interrupted only by Sirius's instructions for the group to gather around. No sooner had Dahlia put finger to the Portkey—a mangly old boot—Dahlia felt the familiar tug around her navel.

She hadn't noticed at first, but at some point during the Portkey, Sirius put his arm around her to ensure that she remain upright when they landed. She gave him a grateful smile as the rest of the group collected themselves from the ground.

"Thank you," she told him.

Sirius flushed. "It's nothing, really. I just know how you are about Portkeys."

Sirius, Remus, and Dahlia followed the redheaded group to their adjoining spots at the campground after they had checked-in with the Muggle. Dahlia was thankful that Sirius and Remus had opted not to join the rambunctious group in their rather worn tents. Instead, Sirius had procured a rather large and luxurious tent for the occasion. It was nowhere near as luxurious as her grand-mere's home, but it was much better than Grimmauld Place. While Sirius and Remus remained outside with the other group, Dahlia spent some time settling in. The wonderful thing about Quidditch matches was that there was no telling how long they would last especially when it came to the World Cup. It was for that reason that she had brought a large amount of clothing.

Dahlia's trunk was waiting for her in her bedroom. She snapped her fingers, and Tippy appeared before her.

"How may Tippy be helping Mistress Dahlia?" Tippy asked.

"Please have my first outfit ready for the match this evening. I do believe the black Acromantula silk over robe with the silver trim will do nicely along with my green beaded dress, black tights, and a pair of low black heels. Also, please set out a selection of jewels from the Black family collection that would match."

"Yes, Mistress Dahlia!" Tippy squeaked before bowing low and disappearing.

Green was one of the Bulgarian National Team colors, and it also had the fortunate effect of looking quite lovely on her thanks to her ivory skin tone and the color of her eyes—a deep green that matches the shade of her mother's eyes. She had a feeling that she was going to be overdressed in comparison to the others in her group, but their tickets were in the top box, which meant that the likelihood of seeing the crème de la crème of British Wizarding Society was great.

She simply could not afford to mess something like this up by making a poor impression. Plus, people—men especially—often underestimated beautiful women. Her grand-mere had taught her to use this to her advantage.

"Men see what they want to see. Show them a pretty face and that is all they will see…" was a sentiment her grand-mere expressed quite often.

With that evening's attire taken care of, Dahlia headed back outside to join her godfather and the others. No one seemed to have noticed her absence as they were all joined around the other camp, watching as Arthur Weasley struggled to put the tent up without magic.

"Why don't you kids go look around?" Sirius suggested as he noticed the redheaded faction becoming more restless by the minute. "I hear there are booths set up from wizards around the world trying to sell their wares."

This seemed to cheer the group up immensely as they began talking animatedly together at once. Dahlia, on the other hand, was decidedly unhappy. With the exception of the Longbottom heir, she had nothing in common with these people, and even with Neville, she doubted they had much in common. Not to mention the fact that several of them seemed to dislike her. It was bad enough that she would be forced to interact with them at the match, but she really didn't want to spend any more time with them than necessary.

Sirius seemed to read her reluctance. "Go on, Dahlia. You'll have fun."

Dahlia suppressed a sigh. "Very well," she said. "Shall I bring us back some Omnioculurs?"

"Oooh," Sirius said, "I almost forgot about them! Yes." He pressed a heavy velvet pouch into her hands. "Get whatever you want."

She could have made an impolite comment about how she didn't need his money, but Sirius looked so excited and happy that she didn't want to take that away from him. Instead, she merely said a soft, "thank you," before heading over to the group of teenagers. Not that she wasn't still angry with him, because she was, but there would be time enough for that later.

At her arrival, the majority of the group seemed to go rigid. Ginny and Ron both scowled at her while Hermione had a puzzled expression on her face as if trying to figure out a particularly difficult puzzle. The twins, however, were in their own little world, it seemed, crouched together in serious discussion. The Longbottom heir was the only one who made any type of overture to her.

"Miss Potter-Black, would you like to accompany us to the marketplace?" he asked, hesitating only slightly at the formal language. It was obvious that while Neville knew the niceties, he was not used to following them.

"Yes, please, that would be lovely," Dahlia murmured and accepted his extended arm.

Dahlia and Neville walked a few paces behind the others to the marketplace, as the others seemed to take offense at not just her presence but Neville's actions as well. After a moment of two of silence, Neville asked her a hesitant question. "Your grandmother is Dorea Potter, right?"

Dahlia smiled at the reminder of her grand-mere. "Yes, that's right, and yours is Augusta Longbottom, yes? I believe they were friends at school."

Neville nodded. "Yes, I think so. She's…err… mentioned you before. My gran, that is."

"Oh?"

Neville nodded once more with enthusiasm. "Yes. She says you would be the perfect sort of girl for me…well, err… if you hadn't been raised in France. Gran says French witches are flighty and vain." He paused, flushing hotly, a horrified look creeping over his face. "I don't believe that—of course not—I mean…." He trailed off.

Dahlia gave him a soft smile. That did fit what her grand-mere had told her regarding the Longbottom Dowager. "Don't worry about it, Neville. You haven't offended me."

A look of relief immediately settled on Neville's face. "Good."

By this time, they were in the marketplace proper, so there was very little talking. They went from booth to booth browsing the various wares. It was quite crowded, so it was no surprise to her when she found herself separated from the group. She continued browsing the booths. She pushed down her anxiety at being alone in such a crowded place, however, and purchased a number of different things, including the omniocculars and some merchandise in support of Bulgaria. Her grand-mere had been more than a bit overprotective of her over the years, so she had never had opportunity to find herself alone before this.

She was at a booth that sold crystal dragon figurines that roared and spit flames when she saw a woman with familiar features. She looked quite similar to her grand-mere though both her hair and eyes were pale where her grand-mere's were not—this woman's hair was the palest shade of blonde and her eyes a clear blue. With her was a very distinguished blonde hair man with long blonde hair leaning on an intricately carved cane and a blonde hair boy about her age with a sharp pointy face and the same pale features of his parents.

She felt rather sure that the woman was Narcissa Malfoy nee Black and her husband and son, Lucius and Draco Malfoy, but it was not until the woman came closer to get a look at the figurines that she confirmed it. Her grand-mere had often showed her the Black tapestry with the pictures of the various family members on it, and although the picture of Narcissa featured on the tapestry was old, there was no doubt of her identity.

As luck would have it, they both reached for the same figurine.

"Oh, excuse me, I'm terribly sorry!" the Malfoy matriarch said, pulling her hand back.

"No, forgive me, Lady Malfoy. I ought to have been paying attention."

While Narcissa Malfoy did not seem surprised at recognition from a stranger, she did look startled at Dahlia's voice. Though she had grown up speaking both English and French equally, Dahlia retained a French accent when speaking English.

"It's quite all right," Narcissa said. She studied Dahlia's face for a moment. "I'm sorry, but you seem to have me at a disadvantage as you know me but I don't believe we have met before."

Now it was Dahlia's turn to flush in embarrassment. Her grand-mere had told Dahlia quite a bit about Narcissa over the years, using her as an example of impeccable Pureblood manners and etiquette, but Narcissa likely only knew of Dahlia due to her status as the heiress to the Black family, and even then she mightn't know more than her name.

Dahlia murmured a hurried apology before curtseying. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Malfoy. I'm Dahlia Potter-Black, heiress to the Potter and Black families."

Narcissa's eyes widened minutely before they darted to where her husband and son stood within hearing distance. "Forgive me, Miss Potter-Black. This is quite unexpected. Last I heard, you were in France with my great aunt."

"I was until recently." Dahlia said but did not offer any more information than that. She may not be happy with her new living arrangement, but it would not do to show a less than united front to outsiders. "My grand-mere believed it was time that I rejoin British society."

"Of course, of course," Narcissa murmured. She motioned to her family discreetly. "May I introduce you to my family?"

Dahlia inclined her head. "Please do."

Narcissa smiled. She gestured towards her husband. "This is my husband, Lord Lucius Malfoy. Lucius, dear, allow me to introduce you to Dahlia Potter-Black, heiress to the Potter and Black families."

"Indeed?" the man queried, his hard, grey eyes taking in Dahlia's face before dropping to survey her body in a cursory manner almost as if taking in a piece of artwork. "It is a pleasure, then, Miss Potter-Black to make your acquaintance."

A chill went down Dahlia's spine at both his intense scrutiny and his tone of voice. She pressed it town and smiled serenely before curtseying and offering her hand.

"And yours as well, Lord Malfoy."

Unlike Neville, there was no hesitation when he grasped her hand and raised it to just below his lips. When he was finished, he gave his son a little push towards Dahlia.

"May I present my son, Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy family?"

Draco had the same contemplating and predatory look on his face, which made Dahlia feel more than a little uncomfortable. She wished, more than anything, that she had not gotten separated from her group.

"I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Potter-Black," Draco drawled, a lazy smile on his face as he bowed sharply.

Dahlia returned the bow with a curtsey of her own. "Likewise, Mister Malfoy," she said and offered her hand, knowing it would be rude to do otherwise.

The Malfoys were part of the upper echelon of British Wizarding Society, and despite any discomfort she might feel at their intense scrutiny, snubbing them was not something she was prepared to do. As the Malfoy heir raised her hand to his lips, she tried to remember everything she knew about him which, unfortunately, turned out to be only cursory information.

She did recall how Sirius had thrown his name out with disgust during his argument with her grand-mere when talking about potential suitors. Grand-mere had mentioned Draco Malfoy as a potential suitor in the future, but when it came down to it, she had said that his father was a dangerous man, and she would much rather avoid the family altogether if they could.

Dahlia jerked her head as she heard a familiar voice call out her name. "'Lia! There you are! The kids said they got separated from you, and I was worried…" Sirius trailed off as he took in the scene before him.

Narcissa inclined her head. "Hello Cousin."

"Cissy," Sirius said, spitting the word out as if it was a curse. "And if it isn't your Death Eater husband, Lucy. Tell me, how did you escape Azkaban again? The Malfoy vaults must be empty thanks to the bribs you no doubt paid to the Ministry."

Both Dahlia and Narcissa gasped while Lucius sneered. "I would be careful, Lord Black, if I were you… it wouldn't do for you to go around accusing respectable citizens of crimes against the Ministry, now would it? Especially those who have the ear of the Minister… unless, of course, you want to bring scrutiny to you and any illegal organization you might be a part of…my, my, what _would _Dumbledore say if he knew how you were acting?"

Thankfully, Remus showed up at that precisely that moment. "Oh, good, you found her. We best get back, Sirius," he said, his eyes flitting between the Malfoys, Sirius, and Dahlia herself.

Sirius looked like leaving was the very last thing he wanted to do, but when Remus placed a hand on his shoulders, he nodded. He cast one last hateful glare at Lucius before snarling, "Stay away from my goddaughter, Malfoy."

He then grabbed Dahlia by her arm and practically dragged her away from them and back into the crowd. Dahlia allowed it, for a moment, until his grasp became painful. "You're hurting me, Sirius!" she said and tried to wretch herself away from her godfather.

This did nothing but caused his grip to tighten. "_I'm _hurting you? What were you thinking, Dahlia, talking to those Death Eaters? Do you have any idea how dangerous, how _reckless_, that was? How could you be so stupid?"

Tears burned her eyes at his words. She wanted nothing more than to tell her exactly what she was thinking at that moment—after all, it wasn't _her _who was acting reckless. All she had done was to introduce herself to the Malfoys, and mostly because she couldn't not do so. Sirius was the one who was throwing around accusations, and would have no doubt gone further than that had Remus not turned up when he did. However, as they were in public, and she had no desire to cause a scene, she said nothing.

When she didn't respond, Sirius shook her. "Answer me!"

"Sirius!" Remus said, sharply.

At Remus' sharp reprimand, Sirius dropped her arm as if he had been burned. The damage had been done, however, because the moment she was free from his grasp, Dahlia fled, making her way back to the tent through the crowd.

By the time she arrived back at the tent, Dahlia had managed to calm herself down, though her cheeks were still wet with tears. No one had ever put their hands on her in such a way before, and for it to be Sirius that had done so… intellectually, she knew that Sirius had likely only been frightened, but did he really think Dahlia was in danger? She wasn't sure. She thought back to the overheard conversation the previous night.

Her knowledge of the previous war was limited to what she learned in history books and the little her grand-mere had told her, so she did not know if Lucius Malfoy had been a Death Eater. All she knew was that he had made her uncomfortable. Still, whatever Sirius' reasons were for acting in such a way, he had no right to put his hands on her. If it had been up to _her_, she never would have left the campground with the Weasleys. It had been his idea to send them off unescorted. If he thought she would be in danger, he should have sent an adult with them, or at the very least, told her! She wasn't a little child anymore. She was fourteen years old and was definitely capable of understanding danger. What she was not capable of doing was reading minds!

Dahlia had planned on barricading herself in the tent for the remainder of the afternoon until it was time to depart for the match, but she had rejoined the group for lunch at Remus's insistence, ignoring her godfather's presence altogether. She was surprised to find that there were several more Weasleys present for lunch.

One of them in particular caught Dahlia's eye. He was tall and thin with long crimson colored hair that was pulled back at the nape of his neck. He was definitely attractive, though not in the same manner as Draco Malfoy or any of the boys at Beauxbatons. With the earring in his ear, his ripped jeans, his dragon hide boots, and the rolled cigarette he was smoking, this particular Weasley was attractive in a way that should have Dahlia turning away from him as he was most certainly not the type of boy—or man, rather, as he was obviously at least ten years older than herself—that Dahlia was expected to like.

Remus, who had been paying close attention to her since earlier, noticed her gazing at the man.

"That's Bill Weasley," he told her. "He's a Curse Breaker at Gringotts. He's the eldest of the bunch. Come on, I'll introduce you."

Remus introduced her to not only Bill but the other two Weasleys—Charlie, a dragon handler, and Percy, a clerk at the Ministry of Magic—as well.

While Bill was friendly enough to her, he had quickly turned back to his conversation with his brother, Charlie, after the introduction. Despite that, she had felt the weight of his gaze on her several times during the course of the afternoon. One time, their eyes even met, causing Dahlia to blush and avert her eyes almost instantly. Her stomach squirmed with the sensation of butterflies flittering around in it. It was only then that she realized what she was experiencing—her first crush. Never before had she experienced such feelings. Oh, she had considered some of the boys at school to be attractive, but nothing more than that.

She paid particular attention to her appearance, as she got ready for the match that night. She knew that she was beautiful, no doubt about that, but as she looked at herself in the mirror, she wondered if she was the sort of beautiful that could attract someone like Bill Weasley. He didn't seem to be the sort who cared about appearances or status. He probably couldn't care less that she was the heiress to two fortunes or that she followed Pureblood traditions. Still, as she donned her outer robe that was more, she hoped that he would notice her. Her dress was a bit more form fitting than the sundress she wore previously and a great deal shorter though her legs were covered in black tights. The outer robe was a style that was all the rage in Paris at the moment. It was open and looked more like a coat than a robe. She had contemplated skipping the robe altogether, but she could hear her grand-mere's scandalized comments in her head at the thought, so she decided against that.

Despite the outer robe, she felt exposed as the large group made their way to the stadium. This was probably due to the fact that several of the members of the group, including both Neville Longbottom and Bill Weasley, had given her several appreciative looks, the latter causing Dahlia to blush from what felt like the tips of her toes to the tips of her ears. This was only made worse when they entered the top box, and Dahlia realized they would be sitting next to the Malfoys.

Fortunately, or rather unfortunately as she was still angry with him, Sirius had finagled it so that Dahlia was ensconced between himself and Remus. Dahlia would have protested, but she did not quite like the looks that the two Malfoy men were exchanging nor the whispered conversation the family seemed to be having about her if their furtive looks in her direction were any indication.

The other members of the top box were two politicians and a house elf. She recognized both Minister Fudge as well as the Minister Oblansk who was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic.

Finally, after a few more minutes of stilted conversation, a man wearing yellow-and-black robes stood up, and pressing a wand to his throat, said: "Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

It was finally time for the match to begin.


	3. Chapter Two

James and Lily are killed along with Charlus Potter during an attack on Potter Manor when Dahlia is only a few months old. Dorea Potter takes custody of little Dahlia Potter and goes into hiding at one of the many Black manors in France. There she is raised to be the perfect Pureblood Heiress despite her own blood status. How will Wizarding Britain react when Dahlia Potter-Black, heiress to the Potter and Black fortune, returns to Britain just in time for the Triwizard Tournament? More importantly, how will Dahlia react when she realizes there is more to life than being the perfect heiress?

Tags: Pureblood culture, sexism, misogyny, old fashioned beliefs, female!Harry, BWL!Neville, unrequited love, possible cross-generation romance later.

Pairings: undecided for now. As Dahlia is only 14, this is not likely to stay static.

Author's Note: Thanks for all of the reviews! Next chapter should see Dahlia at Hogwarts. I thought to put her there this chapter, but with the World Cup and its aftermath, I thought better of it. I'm still contemplating possible pairings (though I have an idea of where I'd like this to go) and houses, so if you have any suggestions feel free to let me know via review or PM. I should continue to update regularly, but I am a PhD student so my workload, even in the summer, is fairly heavy. Just a warning of sorts.

Chapter Two

The game was everything Dahlia had thought it would be and more. She had never seen a professional game before and had only attended a handful of Quidditch games at Beauxbatons as her schedule simply didn't allow for such frivolities. From the mascots' performances to the riveting match itself to the late night festivities following the match, Dahlia could not think of a time when she had had as much fun as she had that night—even if her company left much to be desired. Her anger towards Sirius had not abated though it had cooled over the course of the night. By the time they arrived back at the tents, Dahlia's mind was ablaze with the evening's events and her body was pleasantly exhausted. None of this ceased her ferocious blushing when she realized that Bill Weasley would be sharing their tent.

She had been drinking a cup of hot chocolate and discussing the magical and medicinal benefits of chocolates with Remus who had turned out to be a chocoholic much to Dahlia's delight when there was a knock at the door of the tent. Sirius hadn't even paused before ushering the eldest Weasley child into the tent.

"Are you sure you don't mind me kipping on the couch?" Bill asked Sirius. He shifted nervously from foot to foot as his eyes flittered from Sirius to where Dahlia and Remus were sitting.

Sirius shook his head. "We've plenty of room, Bill! No need for you to sleep on the couch, either. There's an empty room next to Lia's you can use for as long as you need."

"Thanks—I'll just go let Dad know and grab my things," he said before ducking out of the door.

Dahlia had taken the opportunity to head to her bedroom to ready herself for bed. It seemed that no sooner had her head hit the pillow she was being shaken awake by a calloused hand. She blinked sleepily as she tried to focus on the unfamiliar face looking down at her. But it wasn't so unfamiliar… it was Bill. Standing in her bedroom. In the middle of the night!

Before her mind had fully processed what was going on, she was being pulled from her bed and a dressing robe was pushed into her arms.

"Get dressed. There's been an attack," Bill told her before calling out to Sirius, "I've got her."

In the distance, Dahlia could hear a cacophony of screams. She stood shock still for a moment, her mind still befuddled by sleep, before she put two and two together. She pulled on the dressing robe and slipped on a pair of house slippers before following—rather, being pulled by—Bill out of the room.

"We're heading out to see if we can be of any use. You take Lia and head to the forest," Sirius said when he saw the two of them. "Don't let her out of your sight."

Bill nodded, pulling his wand out of a pocket. "I'll stop and get the kids from next door, and we'll all go to the forest. She'll be safe with me."

When they emerged from the tent, it was to mass chaos. Wizards and witches ran to and fro and spells flew all over the place. She watched as Sirius and Remus headed towards what appeared to be the source of the chaos while she and Bill were met with the rest of the Weasley family. The next few minutes flew by in a rush of activity that Dahlia would scarcely be able to remember later.

She knew that they all began running towards the direction of the woods together. She remembered distinctly being pushed toward the Weasley girl, Ginny, and the twins when Bill had begun exchanging spells with a man in a black cloak wearing a terrifying mask. She also, vaguely, remembered watching as Ron, Hermione, and Neville slipped away in the confusion. She remembered watching horrified as several Muggles were levitated in the air by a group of cloak wearing wizards. After that, it was a bit of a blur. She was nearly to a small wooded area when she tripped over a root and fell to the ground. The impact with the ground knocked the breath out of her and shocked her momentarily. She did not linger on the ground long, however, instead pushing herself up. She gasped loudly when she applied weight onto her ankle and caused a bolt of pain to go through her body and tears to sting her eyes.

When she finally did arrive at the wooded area, she was a mess. She was no mediwizard or healer, but she knew that she must have broken her ankle as she could scarcely put any weight on it, and it had swollen to at least twice its size. Her dressing robe was torn and dirty, thanks to her fall, and her hair, which had been down as it always was at night, was disheveled. Not to mention the fact that she had somehow managed to, once again, get separated from the group.

She was not alone, however. When her breathing finally returned to normal, she took the opportunity to look at her surroundings only to find Draco Malfoy leaning against a tree. Unlike her, he seemed perfectly content and not a bit disheveled as if he was merely passing the time. He quirked an eyebrow when their eyes met.

"If it isn't Dahlia Potter-Black," he mused, "all alone. I must say, I am surprised at that. Didn't think that godfather of yours would let you out at night all alone—especially when there are… unsavory characters afoot. How ever did you manage to escape him?"

There was something in his haughty tone or perhaps in the way his eyes swept over her, paying particular attention to her collarbone or the bare skin at her midsection, that both unsettled Dahlia and caused her face to flush in anger. She pulled her torn dressing robe closed, which only seemed to amuse the Malfoy heir.

"If you must know, he didn't _let _me out alone. I was with Bill Weasley when I…got separated from my group," she admitted in a bit of a huff.

Actually, it had been rather easy for her to get separated, as Bill had not been paying particular attention to her like Sirius had asked. Although Dahlia could understand his concern over his own family, he had seemed quite eager to join the fray and foist Dahlia over to someone else's less than capable hands. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. While Bill Weasley was almost a complete stranger to her, he had promised Sirius that he would look out for her… and he definitely had not done that. Her mind reasoned that there were circumstances that could not be helped, such as being attacked or the chaos and confusion of the grounds, but however angry she was with Sirius, she knew she would be have been safe with him.

Perhaps Britain wasn't the safest place to be… what with masked men wreaking havoc on Muggles and the conversation she had overheard previously. She had never been attacked once in France growing up nor had she been in any sort of danger. She wondered how her grand-mere would feel about her presence at this attack. She made a mental note to write to her at her earliest convenience.

Draco Malfoy did not seem to be too keen on conversing with Dahlia. His eyes were fixed on the continued action at the campground, though every so often, they flittered back to the small tree stump that Dahlia was currently sitting on.

After a few minutes, Dahlia finally broke their continued silence. "Those men… wearing masks," she began. "Do you know who they are? _What _they are?"

Draco shrugged elegantly looking utterly nonplussed. "Hard to say given they are _masked_… but I suppose, if pressed, I might wager a guess that they are Death Eaters." At Dahlia's look of confusion, he continued in an incredulous tone. "Servants of the Dark Lord. You must have heard of them, Miss Potter-Black, or do they have no history books in France?"

Dahlia flushed in anger. "Of course I've heard of them!"

Heard of them was a bit of an exaggeration, all things considered. She had read about the Dark Lord Voldemort in her history lessons, and she did remember some mention of his followers, but they had not been named. She remembered asking her grand-mere about them once in relation to the death of her parents, but she had reacted so badly that Dahlia never brought it up again. She knew that her parents had been killed in an attack, but neither her grand-mere nor Sirius had offered any other information regarding that. Perhaps it was time for Dahlia to investigate their deaths…

Before she could think on this further, Bill Weasley and another of his brothers, Charlie, showed up looking much worse for wear. His face, which had looked relieved on first seeing Dahlia, now showed signs of panic when he realized she was alone.

"Dahlia! You're all right. Where are the others?"

"All right?" Draco questioned. "No thanks to _you, _Weasley. Need I remind you of the dangers that could befall a young girl unattended, especially one of Miss Potter-Black's beauty and status…if I were a less honorable man, of course. She was lucky to have stumbled across me instead of some of the more uncouth men about."

Dahlia thought that was a bit rich, coming from him, as he hadn't seemed too keen on her safety or welfare or anything like that. If anything, all he had done so far had been to antagonize her. Though, she supposed, it could have been much worse, all things considered.

"I'm not sure where they are," she finally told Bill. "We started out together, but with everything going on, it was easy to lose them, and then I tripped and fell. By the time I was upright once more, I couldn't find anyone. I had hoped that I would run into them here, but no one else but Mister Malfoy was here"

Bill looked very much like he wanted to exchange words with the Malfoy heir but then thought better of it. Instead, he nodded towards Charlie who then helped Dahlia to her feet. "Charlie'll take you back to the tent. Sirius said he'd meet us there. I'm going to keep looking for the others."

The process of hobbling back to the tent was more painful than Dahlia had thought it would be.

"Wish I could help you with that ankle of yours," Charlie Weasley admitted at one point. "I'm pants at healing charms, though. Remus'll set you to rights soon as he sees you though. He's brilliant at those sorts of charms."

Charlie was right. Remus had healed her ankle at once when they arrived at the tent. This did not stop him from fussing over Dahlia or hovering outside her door as she changed clothes, pulled her hair hastily, and gave Tippy instructions on packing her belongs and delivering them back to Grimmauld Place. This was only exacerbated by Sirius' continued absence.

"I'm sure he is fine," Remus repeated once more, for his sake more than hers, it seemed. "He's an excellent Auror."

They were now safely within the wards of Grimmauld Place having Apparated away from the campgrounds as soon as Dahlia had given the orders to Tippy.

Sirius did turn up at Grimmauld Place the next afternoon while Remus and Dahlia were having brunch. He slammed a copy of the _Daily Prophet _down on the table in front of Remus and pointed viciously at the headline above a startling picture of what appeared to be a snake coming out of a skull: "SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP."

"Can you believe it, Moony? We found the Dark Mark conjured, but no one has any idea who might have done it, and the Minister has decided to be a right berk about the whole thing and is convinced it has nothing to do with You-Know-Who at all!"

Dahlia watched as Remus skimmed the rest of the article, a look of disgust on his face. "Who would write such rubbish?" He paused. "Ah, Rita Skeeter, of course," he murmured. "I should have known."

"I'll give her a 'Ministry Blunder!'" Sirius snarled, throwing himself down into a chair and then spearing several nearby pancakes. He did calm down a bit after Remus pushed a cup of coffee his way, though he was practically inhaling both the coffee and his food.

"I've got to go back in. Dunno how long I'll be. Things are a right mess at the Ministry as you can imagine," he stated when he was done eating. "Oh, before I forget. I collected this for you, Lia. Maybe you and Remus can go to Diagon Alley and pick up your supplies while I'm gone."

He handed a thick envelope to Dahlia that had a strange coat of arms and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry written in emerald green ink on it above a green wax seal.

The letter read thusly:

_Dear Miss Potter-Black, _

_We have received your transcripts from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, and after careful perusal, we are happy to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed within a list of all necessary books and equipment. Due to the differing curriculum between the two schools, however, you will find a number of differences in the necessary books as well as a few missing altogether. Madame Maxine has extended the offer of allowing you to continue the courses missing from the Hogwarts curriculum via Owl Post. If you are interested, please let both Madame Maxine and myself know, so that provisions can be made in your schedule. _

_Yours sincerely, _

_Minerva McGonagall, _Deputy Headmistress

Well, there it was. Printed proof that she would not be returning to the school she loved. Her only consolation was that she would be allowed to continue in all of her classes. She worried, albeit briefly, about being behind but a quick look at the book list told her she would not be. If anything, she was likely to be ahead as she was familiar with a number of the books on the list seeing as her tutors prior to entering school had used them. She suppressed a sigh when she noticed both Remus and Sirius watching her expectedly.

"I'll just go double check my belongings. I think I have a number of these things—potion supplies and the like—with me. Then, I suppose it would be rather nice to visit Diagon Alley once again."

Dahlia would have liked to continue to protest her change of schooling, but to what avail? It seemed silly to be obstinate when it could change nothing. Plus, she had to admit that she was rather curious about what she might learn at Hogwarts regarding the death of her parents. Loathe though she was to admit it, she was rather certain that Draco Malfoy was likely to be a continued source of information.

Diagon Alley had a rather quaint look to it. Rustic even, if Dahlia was honest. It was not necessarily a bad thing, but Dahlia was used to the more elegant shopping districts of Paris, Berlin, and Rome. Diagon Alley left much to be desired. Still, shopping had always served to calm her down in the past, and it had a similar effect on her during their trip.

They spent a lot of time in Flourish and Blott's, the bookstore in Diagon Alley. There were several subject areas that seemed skimpy when compared to their French counterpart. Dahlia was able to find all of the books she needed for her new Hogwarts classes as well as those needed to continue her classes at Beauxbatons. The next shop they spent a large amount of time at was Twilfitt and Tatting's. Remus had initially suggested Madam Malkin's but one look at her selection let Dahlia know that it wasn't the sort of store she wanted to frequent.

Their last stop of the day, after a quick trip to replenish her potion ingredients, was the local pet shop, Magical Menagerie much to Dahlia's initial confusion and then joy and complete delight. Her grand-mere had never allowed her to have a pet. She didn't think it would a good use of Dahlia's time to care for a pet.

"Sirius says you are to pick any sort of pet you want," Remus hesitated as he noticed a display of venomous snakes in the reptilian area. "Within reason, of course, as Hogwarts has strict rules regarding pets."

Dahlia nodded absently as she glanced over the school list again. They could only bring a cat, a toad, or an owl. She was sure that a toad certainly wouldn't do and an owl… well, Dahlia liked owls well enough, though she was much more fond of the doves that delivered post at Beauxbatons. No, a cat would do very well. Decision made, she headed towards the cat enclosures. After a few minutes of peering into the cases, she was drawn to a small black kitten tucked away in the corner, eyeing the others with what Dahlia was sure was disdain. However, at second glance, she noticed the kitten was not a kitten at all but a Kneazle if the shape of her ears and tail were anything to go by.

"This one, if you please," Dahlia said, directing the clerk to the kitten.

The clerk gave her an uncertain look. "You sure?"

"Would I have said otherwise if that was the case?" She responded coolly.

The clerk still seemed skeptical, but he reached in and, barely missing the Kneazle's sharp claws, managed to pick the kitten up by the scruff of his neck. After a short struggle, he dropped the perturbed kitten into Dahlia's arms. The two—Dahlia and the Kneazle, that is—had a staring competition before the kitten finally sniffed at her and settled down in the crook made by her arms and her chest.

"Splendid!" Remus said.

He went to get a closer look at the kitten but before he could, the kitten opened one eye and let out a fierce hiss. Remus lifted his arms in surrender and stepped back. Well, well, then. It seems her new pet was going to be an exacting fellow.

"I'll just go get the supplies then, shall I?" Remus said and disappeared with the clerk who seemed to be happy to be well rid of both the Kneazle and Dahlia.

The two—and the newly acquired but as of yet unnamed kitten—rounded out their visit to Diagon Alley with a trip to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor where Dahlia ate what felt to be her weight in chocolate hazelnut ice cream. The unnamed kitten scowled at the confection when Dahlia offered him a taste before hissing once more at Remus.

"Any idea of a name for this little guy yet?" Remus asked lightly.

Dahlia nodded. "I'm thinking of Severus. Just see how stern and severe he looks!"

Remus nearly choked on his double chocolate with chocolate chip ice cream. "Pardon me?"

"Severus, you know… it is Latin for stern. I suppose I could call him Sévère, the French version, but seeing as I will be primarily speaking English now, this seems to suit him much better."

Remus chuckled weakly. "Promise me one thing, Dahlia?"

Confused, Dahlia nodded. "Anything."

"Let me be there when you tell Sirius his name."

It seemed like a reasonable request, especially considering how amusing Remus found her new pet's name, so she nodded. "As you wish."


End file.
